


Authentically Ersatz

by purewanderlust



Series: Love, Curiosity, Freckles, and Doubt [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 09:36:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/513835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purewanderlust/pseuds/purewanderlust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam learns to get by without Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Authentically Ersatz

Sam is halfway through his second year at Stanford, and he still misses his brother more than he ever thought possible. He hasn’t seen Dean for almost a year, since that horrible Christmas Eve. He usually does an admirable job of not dwelling on it, but winter break is starting on Friday and he’s not sure if he can stand to go through the holiday season without contacting his brother, whatever Dean may have done.

 

It’s a relief when his roommate bursts in, noisy and inconsiderate as usual. Tonight, however, he's being trailed by a girl that Sam thinks he recognizes from his Art History class. She's tall and blonde and leggy, dressed in worn blue jeans and a Stones t-shirt.

 

"Dude." Sam says in an undertone. "Did you finally dump Alex?"

 

Brady just laughs. "Alex is an asshole," he answers, "But no, I didn't dump him. Why would I when he gives such fantastic head?"

 

Sam looks at him with dawning horror. "Please tell me you aren't trying to set me up."

 

"Right in one, Samm--oh." Brady catches himself and plows ahead without missing a beat. "You haven't been on a single date since you got here! Live a little."

 

Sam's just opening his mouth to argue further when the girl gets tired of pretending she can't hear them and cuffs Brady upside the head.

 

"Freakin' caveman." she says with a pretty scowl, "I'm not deaf just because I have boobs you know." The she turns on Sam, cocking an eyebrow sardonically.

 

"I'm really sorry." Sam says, completely mortified. "Brady's too nosy for his own good."

 

She shrugs. "I only put up with it because we've been friends for a long time. I'm Jess." Her lips curl into a smirk and she gives him the once-over, green eyes sparkling with mirth. "If I have to be set up, I have to confess, you do have promise."

 

"I'm--I'm Sam." He tells her, suddenly nervous in spite of himself. Jess grins and leans closer.

 

"Well, Sam, how about we give this blind date thing the ol' college try?" She glances up at him through thick eyelashes, amusement barely hidden by the false somber expression she's adopted. There's a dusting of freckles across her cheekbones, and smattered on her upturned nose and Sam can’t look away.

 

"Yeah." he hears himself say, "Yeah, that's a good idea."

 

Jess smiles. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

 

*

 

The closer it gets to eight o’clock, though, the more he starts to think he’s made a huge mistake.

 

“Seriously, we don’t know anything about each other. This is a bad idea.” He says, even as he peers into the mirror, flattening his hair as best he can. He doesn't say the other part of what he's thinking; that neither Dean nor Jessica deserve Sam and his faithless heart. 

 

Brady throws up his hands. “Dude, she’s totally hot and she’s smart and, can I reiterate, you haven’t been on a single date in the fifteen months that you’ve been here.”

 

Sam shrugs uncomfortably, but Brady is relentless. He’s been a little on edge ever since he came back from Thanksgiving. “Seriously, Sam, are you harboring some kind of longstanding secret love that you never told me about?”

 

Sam flushes brilliantly and turns away, hoping nothing shows on his face. “Don’t be stupid. Does this shirt work?”

 

Brady yanks it out of his hands. “No, dude, no pink. Wear the green.”  He shoves the other shirt at him and Sam puts it on obligingly. There’s a knock on the door just as he does up the last button.

 

“By the way.” Brady says conversationally. “I’m locking the door as soon as you leave, and I have your keys. Don’t come back until you get laid.”

 

Before Sam can do so much as protest, he’s being shoved out the door and having it slammed shut behind him. Jess stands there smirking, but not looking particularly surprised.

 

“Brady’s such an Emma. A really crude one.” She sighs as Sam straightens up and tries to pull himself together.

 

“Sorry.” Sam says again, feeling his face heat up. He feels horribly underdressed, even though Jessica isn’t wearing anything particularly dressy herself; just a simple white blouse and dark wash jeans. Her blonde hair is wound into an elaborate knot though, and she’s wearing earrings and heels, so he thinks he’s probably dressed down, even if this wrinkled button down is the nicest shirt he owns.

 

“Rule number one of this date,” Jess says with a faux scolding expression, “No more apologizing. Got it?”

Sam nods, kind of in shock over being bossed around by such a tiny girl.

 

“Great. Alright, well, I know a great place to eat, but it’s a bit of a drive, so we’re gonna take my car.” She says, grabbing his hand and leading him down the stairs.

 

“How do you know I don’t have a car?” Sam teases before he can lose his nerve. It’s worth it to see her grin back at him.

 

“Do you?” She asks.

 

“No.”

 

Jess laughs. “Didn’t think so. Even if you did, do I look like I’m going to submit to the demands of the patriarchy?” She doesn’t give him any time to answer before adding; “Besides, you _really_ want to ride in my car.”

 

“Oh, I do?” Sam challenges, but then they push out the front door of the apartment building and he sees it.

 

Jess’ car is apparently a gorgeous cherry red Mustang convertible.

 

“Is that a ’65?” Sam blurts, taking a hesitant step towards it.

 

Jessica looks impressed. “I didn’t know you were into classic cars.”

 

“I’m not.” Sam says automatically. “I mean, I know a little about them, but it’s not my hobby or anything.” _That would be Dean_. His brain supplies helpfully.

 

Damn, but he’s really doing his best to keep his brother out of his mind.

 

“Where’d you get it?” He asks, focusing his attention back on the pretty girl in front of him.

 

“Saved up from the first minute I had my permit and then went looking. Found her on a classic cars website and I had to have her.” She grins at him, spinning a ring of keys on her fingers. “It was my high school graduation present to myself.”

 

“Pretty excellent graduation present.” Sam concedes and her lips twitch into another smile.

 

“Couldn’t agree more. C’mon, we’ve got a little bit of a drive and I’m starving!”

 

Sam folds himself into the passenger seat with good grace and tries not to notice that he has less legroom than in his brother’s car. Jess is smiling from the driver’s seat, a tendril of blonde hair already flying loose from her bun and no way he’s going to ruin this evening by dwelling.

 

“So, what’re you majoring in?” He asks as the car rumbles to life and pulls away from the curb.

 

“Ooh, I’m not sure I wanna answer that question when I already know your focus.” She jokes. “Saying I’m an art major doesn’t impress nearly as much as you gearing up for law school.”

 

“Art?” Sam asks, genuinely interested. “Like preservation or history, or are you actually an artist?”

 

Jessica laughs. “Well, that sounds kind of presumptuous, but yeah, I guess I’m an artist. I paint.”

 

“That’s really cool!” Sam tells her enthusiastically. “I’d like to see your work sometime.”

 

He must’ve done something right, because her cheeks flush pink and she glances over at him. “Really? You aren’t going to ask me how I plan to pay my bills when I graduate?”

 

Sam shrugs. “If you’re good at what you do and you’re willing to work hard, I don’t see any reason you shouldn’t be able to make a living as a painter.”

 

“Huh. I just never thought I’d see someone going for such a practical degree having that attitude. You’re Poli Sci, right?”

 

“Yeah, pre-law. I wanna be a lawyer to help people, though, not because it’s necessarily practical.” He grins, hoping to show her he takes no offence. “Though that is a perk, I guess.”

 

Jessica beams at him. “I bet your family is really proud of you.”

 

Sam bites his lip and looks away, out the passenger-side window. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

She must sense that he doesn’t want to talk about it because she changes the subject smoothly. “So, do you like Italian?”

 

“Pasta is my middle name.” Sam quips, grateful for the turnabout. “But aren’t most Italian places a little too fancy for blue jeans?”

 

Jess bobs her head in agreement. “That’s why Luccio’s is so great.” She explains. “It’s a total hole-in-the-wall, but their lasagna’s to die for.” They pull into the parking lot and Jess gestures up at the building before them. “Ta da!”

 

It’s not much; looks like it might have been a small cottage in a past life, but for the neon sign on the window. Nonetheless, Luccio’s is perched on the edge of a hill, overlooking a little lake and a sprawling town, giving it a rather magnificent view.

 

“Wow.” Sam says, as they climb the steps to the porch. “How’d you find this place?”

 

“My roommate worked here last year and she was always bringing home to-go boxes.” Jess grins. “You know how college students are about free food.”

 

Sam does know. Even with his jobs at the campus library and the coffee house down the street, he’s sometimes tight for money.  If it weren’t for the several hundred dollars that show up mysteriously in his bank account every couple months, he’d probably have to take a third job, which he really can’t manage with the courses he’s taking.

 

He learned a long time ago that pride only gets you so far.

 

If Jessica notices the lapse in his conversational abilities, she doesn’t give any indication, chattering happily about her roommate’s less than desirable qualities as the waiter seats them and places a basket of fresh baked bread on the table. It doesn’t take long for her to pull him out of his headspace and into conversation and after a while, Sam realizes just how much he’s enjoying himself. He hates to give Brady credit for anything, but he’s definitely got Sam’s number on this one. Jess is just his type, whip-smart and gorgeous with a great sense of humor and a casual confidence that puts Sam at ease.

 

Jess doesn’t ask about his family again, and he doesn’t offer, but they still have plenty to talk about. She tells him about her little brother and his pranks, about her military father and her interior designer mother and Sam takes it all in, feeling only the tiniest twinge of jealousy over that normal, easy childhood. In return, he tells her about his favorite places he’s ever been, and the places he’d like to go. When the conversation rolls around to favorite movies and Sam confesses he’s never seen any of the classic animated Disney films, Jess shakes her head disapprovingly and tells him that it has to be remedied.

 

Dinner’s over too soon for Sam’s liking and, after sweet-talking Jess into letting him pay the bill, he follows her back out to her car, wishing the night didn’t have to end so soon.

 

“So…I never do this on the first date, but, do you wanna come back to my place?” Jess says sounding hesitant for the first time all night. “We could watch one of those Disney movies you’ve never seen or something?”

 

“What about your roommate?” Sam asks uncertainly. 

 

“Lori left after class this morning for break, she has to fly back to Albany. I’ve got the place to myself.” When Sam doesn’t speak up immediately, she rushes on. “I mean, you don’t have to, it’s cool--”

 

“No, I’d love to.” Sam cuts her off, and Jess graces him with a blinding smile.

 

They end up deciding to watch _Aladdin_ , Jess passing Sam a beer before plopping down next to him on the couch.

 

“I always liked Jasmine best of the Disney princesses.” She confesses with a little smile. “She never lets anyone else make decisions for her.”

 

Sam feels his lips twitching into a grin. “Even though her father thinks he knows best?”

 

“ _Especially_ because of that. Sultan or not, her dad can’t control her life!”  Jess answers emphatically and Sam laughs, despite himself.

 

By the time they get to the flying carpet scene, Jess is curled into Sam, her head resting on his shoulder. He can smell the citrusy scent of her shampoo and he’s not so interested in the movie anymore. His mind is all over the place; he can't help but wondering if he's betraying Dean, or if he's just using Jessica. He doesn't know what to do. 

 

After a minute or so, Jess looks up and catches him watching her.  “What?” She asks innocently as Aladdin bids Jasmine goodnight on the screen behind her.

 

Sam stops thinking about it, and just tilts down to kisses her gently. Instantly, Jess’ hands come up into his hair and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Sam’s forgotten about the movie completely, too caught up in the catch and drag of their mouths, the warm press of Jess’ body against his. Dean's still there, at the back of his mind, but Sam wraps his arms around Jess' waist and tries to forget about him, too.

 

After what seems like ages, Jessica breaks the kiss, picking up the remote and clicking the television off. She studies him for a long moment, then gets to her feet, stretching her hand out for his, a wry grin on her face.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Sam doesn't hesitate to take her hand, and lets her pull him up from the couch. “Does this mean I have to be the princess?” He teases as Jess leads him back to the bedroom.

 

She laughs, voice clear like a bell, and pushes him gently down to the mattress. “I told you already, I don’t submit to the demands of the patriarchy.” She crawls over him, kissing him again, and Sam can feel her smile against his lips.

 

It’s different than it was with Dean, in more ways than the obvious. Jess is softer, warmer, happier. She moans low in her throat when Sam presses into her and there’s no pained guilt in her eyes. Sam doesn’t feel frantic and desperate the way he did with Dean, just calm and cradled. The difference between gently rolling waves and hurricanes, and Sam doesn’t mean to compare them anyway. He really likes Jess, and he doesn't want to make her a substitute, but he still has to bite down on his tongue when he comes, for fear of his brother's name passing his lips.  

 

Afterwards, Jess is sprawled on her stomach next to him, humming contentedly under her breath, an arm flung comfortably across Sam’s hips, and that’s different too. Jess doesn’t love him, not like Dean did, but there’s definitely affection, and that’s better than Sam could’ve hoped for. He can’t help the guilt that creeps over him, though he can't say if it's Dean or Jess he's betrayed. But he’s already drifting off to the sound of Jess’ humming, the notes coming together in a disjointed, but familiar melody to soothe him to sleep.


End file.
